Iggy Power, Level: 9000
by HermioneK
Summary: A series of one-shots that center around our favorite goofy gallant giant: the Iggmeister.
1. Guilty as Charged

Guilty As Charged

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride or Iggy, but instead, a frying pan that I frequently cook scrambled eggs in.**

I suddenly woke up, snapped out of my reverie by a terrible noise. I stood up. Nothing seemed unusual. Then I heard it. The wonderful sound of Gazzy farting. The smell hit me like a ton of bricks.

All of a sudden I had a brilliant idea. Plugging my nose, I rummaged around in our closet. Finally, I found it; (Well,more like felt it, actually) our old tape recorder. Man, I had a lot of good memories with this thing. I stuck it by Gazzy's thin little ass and pressed what I thought ws the record button. It was actually the play button. Some random discussion that Gazzy and I must've done years ago started blasing at full volume!

Gazzy jolted awake. "Whus dat?" he mubled groggily.

"N-Nothing," I said, feeling my cheeks flush.

He rolled over and was asleep within minutes.

_Dang it!_ My evil plan would have to wait until tomorrow.

Well, it was tomorrow night. Once again, Gazzy woke me up in the middle of the night with his farting. But this time, I was ready. I pulled out the tape recorder, (I now knew which button was 'record'.) walked to Gazzy's butt, and pressed 'record'. There was a sudden stream of his particularly violent (and ripe) flatulence. All of it was recorded. I hit the stop button, turned the volume to the lowest setting, and briefly played it.

_What a beautiful noise._ I sotpped it, rewound it a little bit, and set it under my pillow. Now I just needed theperfect prank to go with it. I sighed and went back to sleep.

When I woke up the next morning, I immediately smelled a horrible burning smell. (This whole 'smell waking me up' seemed to be a recurring theme) Max must've tried to cook breakfast again.

_When would she learn?_ I grumbled and groaned down the stairs.

"Max," I said, leaning against the doorframe.

"Oh thank God you're here! I'm trying to make scrambled eggs. Can you help? Please?"

"More like burning them from what I can smell."

"What? They are not burnt!"

"Yes they are. Just look at them!"

I picked up a spatula and pushed some of the eggs around. The stench was even stronger. I don't know how she couldn't smell it.

"Go sit down," I said with a sigh, using my spatula to direct her where to sit.

"Thanks, Iggy," she said, relieved.

"Yeah, whatever, just don't do it again."

I scraped all of the soiled eggs into the garbage can. I set the pan on the stove and cracked 3 dozen eggs. That would probably be enough food for 2 of us. This was going to take a while.

After all of the eggs were cooks and everybody sat down at the table to eat, I pressed play on the tape recorder. A stream of Gazzy's farts exploded from the machine.

"Gazzy!" everybody groaned. "Take that thing outside!"

"It wasn't me!" he protested.

"Yeah right," said Fang. "And secretly I love pretty pink unicorns."

"But it wasn't me!" he yelled, as soon as I played the tape again.

Suddenly I sensed Angel looking at me. _Curse her mind reading/controlling abilities!_ As soon as Angel looked, so did Max. I could just tell. All the chatter seized.

"Was that you?" Max asked accusingly.

"Guilty as charged," I said, standing up while laughing. I held my hands up in a surrendering position. As soon as I did that everybody could see my tape recorder.

"It was you!" exclaimed Gazzy.

_Yep. Yes it was._


	2. I Got A Jar of Dirt

I Got a Jar of Dirt

**Disclaimer: I don't own Iggy or Fang or Maximum Ride, but in science class we had jars of dirt with potatoes inside. True story!**

Max POV

Iggy walked into the room; he was very hyper. He must've had another Vault on the way home from school.

"I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt! And guess what's inside it?"

He skipped around the room and jumped up and down on the couch where Fang was presently sitting, using his laptop, looking increasingly annoyed by the minute.

"I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt! And guess what's inside it?" sang Iggy, leaning closer and closer to Fang.

Fang was seething with annoyance. Iggy shook the _actual_ jar of dirt he was holding in Fang's ear.

"I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt! And guess what's inside it? I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt! And guess what's inside it? I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt! And guess what's inside it? I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt! And guess what's inside it? I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt! And guess what's inside it? I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt! And guess what's inside it? I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt! And guess what's inside it-"

"LET ME GUESS!" screamed Fang, standing up angrily. "YOU'VE GOT DIRT INSIDE YOUR JAR OF DIRT!"

Fang snatched the dirt out of Iggy's hand, unscrewed the lid, and dumped it on Iggy's head.

Iggy looked heart-broken while Fang stomped out of the room.

"You don't got a jar of dirt, you don't got a jar of dirt, you don't got a jar of dirt! And guess what's not inside it?" I yelled, skipping around the room.


	3. Iggy's Day

Iggy's Day

**Disclaimer: Seriously, if I owned Maximum Ride, would I be here right now, writing this story?**

**The POV alternates between Iggy and me, HermioneK. It starts with Iggy.**

It was a nice, warm, sunny day. The birds were singing, kittens were mewing, and -_yeah, like I'm so sure. It'd be nice if my life was ever like that!_

For those of you that figured out that the above spectacle was _not_ real, go on ya!

Anyhow, the day was somewhat warm. I at least think it was sunny, because I could feel it on my arms. I didn't hear any birds singing, and screw that whole kitten thing. I mean seriously, how many of you actually bout that crap? Raise your hands, wherever you are.

I woke up and trotted to the kitchen. My growling stomach sounded vey Chewbacca-like, so I figured that it was time to grab some grub. (Ha ha. That was fun to say. 'Grab some grub, grab some grub, grab some grub. I think Gazzy and I will use that as a tongue twister next time we're flying.)

This is where it gets weird people! The second I opened the fridge door, a blast of cold air hit me that was more powerful than Gazzy's farts. (At least it didn't smell like them) Then, there was this huge tugging feeling on my gut and I was sucked into the fridge. I spun around and around and upside down. I felt myself get folded up until I was microchip size and then unfolded until I felt like a parachute. Finally, when I felt like I couldn't take it anymore, I was slammed down. Hard. _Really_ hard.

I raised my arm to rub my sore temples when a weird sensation stopped me. I don't know what it was. But when I raised my arm again, it was back. I finally gained more brains than an elephant and figured out that it was my _arm_ that felt weird, like it was asleep or something. (You know, how it gets all tingly when the blood rushed to it?)

_What the heck is going on? Where the frick am I? _See, this is one of the many disadvantages of being blind. Somebody always has to spell out stuff for you, like you're three years old. Oh yeah. That, and there's no point in playing Call of Duty.

My arm felt like a giant balloon. I moved my leg and it felt the same.

Then, about my head, there was a giant puff of air, and I heard something saying "3, 2, 1, GO!" and a ton of engine raced off, all at once, and a couple of them crashed into me. I opened my mouth to yell at them, but all that came out was "Letsa go!" in a weird Italian accent.

All of a sudden, my leg pushed down on a pedal. My hands gripped something, and it took me a moment to realize that it was a steering wheel. _What the heck am I doing with a steering wheel?_ Then, an engine burst to lie under my feet. My head slammed back with sudden force; force that could only happen while inside a go-kart. With a sinking feeling, I realized that I must be Mario, in Mario Kart Wii. Wow. Holy crap. I took a second for this to register. I mean, this was my dream come true, right? To drive a car? I was always nagging Max, and she would never let me, but that didn't mean I couldn't ever do it.

Finally, finally, the person driving me pushed down on the 2 button on their Wii-mote and I took off. Hilarious enough, I was in Yoshi's Wild Wing cart. Me, Iggy, as Mario driving a Wild Wing Kart. I almost laughed out loud.

"Hurry up and drive Mario, you good for nothing slowpoke!" I screamed at the TV, jamming on the 2 button with bone-jarring strength. "I said go, now go! Stop looking around like a blind idiot!"

"Nonononononononononononono! Not a spiny shell! Dang it!" My kart flipped out of control and it took a couple of seconds for it to recover from the bomb.

Weirdly enough, Mario seemed to have an unlimited supply of bombs. Pretty soon I had more than recovered for the loss of time. I shot way ahead of the pack, blasting anyone to bits that got in my way. It was so totally cool!

Well, I 'drove' all right. It was so awesome! It took me about two minutes to build an unlimited supply of bombs and throw them whenever I wanted! I blasted and blew my way to first place. I love bombs and Mario Kart. I'll never look at Call of Duty the same way again.

(Get it? 'Look'? Whatever. Peace out yo.)


	4. TikFlok

TikFlok

**Iggy's POV; I do not own Iggy, just my dreams about him. If I owned Tik Tok, my name would be Kesha, and I would not spend my precious time on FanFiction. Setting is in Detroit.**

**Tik-Flock**

I sat daydreaming and doodling in my notebook in 2nd hour science. The teacher, Mrs. Ham, was talking about Coriolis Effect; something I already learned about.

As I was drawing a picture of Mickey Mouse the person sitting next to me nudged me. I ignored her. She nudged me again.

"What?" I snapped at her.

She pointed at the teacher's desk.

"Iggy, I asked you a question."

"I'm sorry ma'am, what did you say?"

"How many different ways do the winds travel in the Northern Hemisphere?"

I knew the answer but thought it was high time to get out of here. I stepped on my desk and broke into song. I heard people gasp.

_Wake up in the morning feeling like P-Diddy. Grab my glasses, I'm out the door, I'm gonna hit this city. Before I leave, brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack cuz when I leave for the night I ain't coming back._

"Iggy, sit down this instant!" yelled Mrs. Ham.

_I'm talking pedicures on our toes toes_

_Trying on all our clothes clothes_

_Boys blowing up our phones phones_

I started jumping from desk to desk. I could hear Fang snickering to my right.

_Drop-topping playin' our favorite CDs_

_Pulling up to the parties_

_Trying to get a little bit tipsy_

"Iggy, I'm going to call the office and we'll let Mr. Wood deal with you!"

_Don't stop, make it pop, DJ blow my speakers up_

_Tonight, Imma fight till I see the sunlight_

_Tik Tok on the clock but the party don't stop_

_No_

Now kids started singing along, really getting into it.

_Ain't got a care in the world, but got plenty of beer_

_Ain't got no money in my pocket, but I'm already here_

_And now the dudes are lining up cuz they hear we got swagger_

_But we kick 'em to the curb unless they look like Mick Jagger_

I opened my wings and flew out the door. Kids cheered and gasped. I forgot that the door was closed though. I hit it with a distressing thud and crashed to the ground in a crumpled heap. Fang grabbed my hand and literally pulled me out of there. Kids started streaming out of their classrooms.

Every pull or tug of my hand made me cry out in pain. I was pretty sure it was broken. Tears started involuntarily running down my face.

Fang ran into Mrs. Jacob's room, who was explaining Pythagorean's Theorem. He let go of me, and I was scared. Kids were everywhere, going nuts. I was right in the middle of them ad had no idea what the heck was going on. As soon as I was really starting to panic Fang grabbed my hand and I heard Max's footsteps running with us. We turned a corner, ran down stairs, and outside.

"You wanna tell me what the heck happened in there?" asked Max

"Well, first there was Coriolis Effect, then Kesha, a bottle of Jack, and P-Diddy." I could practically see Max's stunned face.

"We've gotta get the kids and scram," said Fang.

Once we had flown to the elementary school, I set a bomb off in the boy's bathroom to distract everyone. It worked perfectly. Everybody evacuated, and nobody even noticed Gazzy's, Nudge's and Angel's absence.

"Why did we have to leave?" asked Gazzy.

"Because Iggy decided to cause hell at a middle school," said Fang with his usual tact.

"They saw our wings," I said anxiously. "We have to get out of here."

"Well where do you propose we go, O Wise One?"

"Hawaii!"

So there we were two hours later at Detroit Metro Airport, staring at a Boeing 747.

"Are we going to steal that airplane?" asked Angel.

"Let's!" shouted Gazzy.

"Okay, we are definitely going to Juvi," Max muttered under her breath "first a jerk's money, then a car, now an airplane!"

"How else are we going to get to Hawaii? Swim there?" I asked.

"Fine, fine. You win! Happy? Now we can steal an airplane and I'll blame _you_ when the cops come and arrest us."

After I expertly picked the lock on the airplane, we boarded it and sat in first class.

"Oh my God, if you thought driving a car looked hard, how in the heck are we going to drive an airplane?" asked Max, starting to sound panicked.

"Can I please drive it?" I asked her; all seriousness.

"Heck no!"

"Let. Me. Drive. The. Airplane…NOW!"

"No crazy-head!"

I ran into the cockpit and locked the door. I didn't even know these things had locks.

I sat down in the pilot seat and felt this aura around me. I don't even know what it was; it was like this spirit thing.

I ran my sensitive fingers over all the controls. Hey! Bonus! They were in Braille!

I put my hands on the 'steering wheel' and closed my eyes tight. I crouched on the chair concentrating hard on the jet.

I don't know what came over me. I suddenly started pushing random buttons. It was like my arms were moving with their own volition, doing whatever they wanted.

I felt the powerful jet come to life under my feet. I could hear the flock screaming as they were thrown back into their seats.

The plane moved faster and faster. Soon we were airborne. I programmed the jet to fly on auto pilot for a while, unlocked the door, and leaned against the door frame.

"And who can't drive a jet?" I asked.


End file.
